Silent Hill: Wayward
by RedstarMassacre
Summary: Follow rookie cop William Harris as he descends into hell and beyond in search for the reason he's been brought to the infamously cursed town known as Silent Hill. Characters from games do/will show up, including a certain geometrically challenged monster. Perhaps romance later on? Reviews would be appreciated!


It was a sunny day, clouds drifted in the endless blue that was the sky. Shadows lurked across the dark pavement of the road. Adjacent to that road was a sidewalk, occupied by a small lone figure. William watched the scene as one would expect a stranger to, unmoving. And yet, William was no stranger to this girl; he could recognize her even as she was walking away.

"Anabel," his voice croaked. The name wasn't much more than a whisper, and his little sister continued forward, pink Hello Kitty backpack bouncing on her back, red hair gleaming like copper when caught in the rays of sun filtering through the trees that lined either side of the walk. He didn't recognize the neighborhood, he noted absently as looked on with frosty blue eyes, rooted to the spot.

William seemed to snap out of his daze as Anabel turned down a gravel alley and severed the line of sight. He went to follow, but found it difficult – his feet felt weighted, as though his shoes were made of iron. William looked down, his black Nikes appearing to be completely normal upon the craggy pavement that he stood on.

_'That's strange,'_ he thought mildly. The sound of an engine roaring to life behind him made the dark brunette turn around, spying a large white van pulling away from the curb and onto the vacant street. The windows were tinted dark; William couldn't see who was driving. At first, he thought nothing of it, but sudden shivers seemed to wrack his spine as the increasingly ominous vehicle passed, turning to follow the rusting white beast with his gaze. A sick sensation gathered into his stomach. Clouds drifted beneath the sun, their shadow replacing the warmth of its light with a damp coolness. The van drove up the street… and then turned left, into the alley his sister had gone up moments before.

_'No!'_ William grunted, lurching forward. This time, his feet complied, though as he ran William found that he couldn't move as quickly as he would have liked. It felt comparable to running through deep water.

A shrill scream made William's heart sink and gut twist painfully, his eyes widening with fear. As a boy, he had taken joy in hearing that scream as a result of childish pranks. This time, it made his blood run cold. Only silence pursued the sound.

"ANABEL!" William's voice broke through the heavy air, pushing himself to reach the alley faster. "Hold on, Anabel! I'm…?" The brunette trailed off, his brows furrowing as he approached; the closer he got, the narrower the entrance of the passage seemed to become! He slowed in his confusion, stopping just before he rounded the corner. The two brick buildings that created the alley-way were only a little more than a yard apart. Looking up, William couldn't see the top of the buildings, a low cloud engulfing them. _'No, not a cloud,'_ William thought as he looked around. _'Fog…'_ The once sunny scene had turned into a bright suffocating abyss of milky fog, so dense that William couldn't even see the other side of the road.

"When did it get so foggy?" William asked no one in particular, not that anyone was there to answer. Regardless, the fog was unimportant; the alley was far too narrow for the van he saw not even a minute ago to have gone down it. More than enough space for an elementary school girl, though. He took the last few steps to see into the dark alley.

The first thing William noticed was the color red. Dripping. The world seemed to have gone silent aside from the organic 'plip' of the scarlet drops, each one landing in a growing puddle upon the ground. The next thing he noticed was the hole it came from – a half-dollar sized indentation gushing like a faucet down a boyish face, a red river between green eyes, dull and dead.

William stared in shock, gaping at what stood before him. A bloody, grimy face stared back with features not entirely unlike his own. The figure stood stiffly, presence filling the alley. The brunette managed to take a step back and glance briefly beyond the creature – he couldn't bear to call it human – to see that it was a dead end. Anabel was nowhere in sight. _'What..?'_

The 20 year-old brought his eyes back to the monster, which thankfully remained stationary. It was utterly repulsive. He took in the details of the pale mottled skin, veins dark beneath the translucent external organ. Its mouth was slightly ajar, a grey tongue just visible; the muscle was fat and swollen with death. Legs feeling like lead, William was unable to do anything besides stare. His breath came to him faster and shallower the longer he looked, trying not to hyperventilate. The tension was tangible, strained like a rubber band about to snap. His blood roared in his ears. He could feel the thud of his own heartbeat and half-heartedly wondered if the creature could hear its racing pulse.

Despite how much he wanted to, William could not pull his gaze away from the thing's face. Disfigured and alien as it was, it seemed to him terribly familiar… A small scar marred the creature's chin.

"Oh my god," William blanched, horror rising to its peak. "Da-"

_"RRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNG!"_

William Harris shot into an upright position as he heard his cell phone go off. He was breathing hard, drenched in a cold sweat. His heart still raced as images flashed through his mind; a pink backpack, a van, green eyes. A wave of dizziness from the fast movement wiped them away, a whiteboard eraser over dry-erase marker. Just like that, the memory of the dream was gone.

_"RRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNG!"_

A glare was sent in the direction of the noisy device as he ran a hand through his dark bangs; the word 'MOM' was displayed in large white letters, along with the time. William groaned.

"It's six in the morning, Mom. What the hell?" He muttered to himself, blindly fumbling for the phone. He had to squint to find the answer button in the low light. "Do you know what time i-… Mom?" Worry washed over him when he heard loud sobs on the other side of the line. Was that an ambulance siren in the background?

"Mom, what's wrong? What happened?" William asked urgently. Michelle Harris wailed harder, gibberish feeding back to her son as she tried to form words. Through the broken speech, he managed to pick up 'gun' and 'accident'. "Mom, I-I can't understand yo-"

"Dakota! He's gone! Oooooh, Will! My baby…! My baby is dead!" Michelle cried, choking back into hysterics. She said nothing more. William sat numbly at the edge of his bed, registering what she had said. His eyes glazed over and the phone slipped from his hand.

'Dakota…'

The congregation in the Portland church was a quaint one. At the front of the room lay a simple yet elegant wooden casket surrounded by bouquets containing a myriad of flowers. The one William noticed the most was of red and white roses placed at the head. From the back of the room, the brunette could make out the top line of his brother's body in the open casket; Dakota was donned in the black suit that had been meant for graduation later that year, the very same one William had worn to his own.

"Will," a voice called from his left. Blue eyes swept over, finding his mother. Mrs. Harris was a small woman – William owed his height to the other half of his gene pool. He did inherit her dark hair, though; Michelle had hers pulled back into a tight bun. She wore black respectively, the dress flowing around her as she embraced her surviving son.

"Hey, Mom," William greeted, returning the embrace and then some. His hand rubbed her back comfortingly as she trembled, her face shoved into the chest of his own midnight-toned suit. It had been nearly a week since the incident. After the call, William had hopped in his car and was on the interstate by 8 a.m. It was more than a half a day drive from his apartment in Wellburg to his childhood home on the east coast of southern Maine.

She had been nearly inconsolable the first two days, William doing little better than her long-term boyfriend Paul White. The awkward beast of a man could only linger around like a ghost, watching with sad brown eyes as his beloved wailed in emotional turmoil. Even now, as William held his mother, Paul stood behind her looking lost among friends and family. After William had shown up, he and Paul had been the ones tending to the arrangements while a couple of the brunette's aunts helped Michelle with her grief. William had already done his crying in private; he had to stay strong for his mother.

William looked down as Michelle pulled back, eyes bloodshot, dark bags hanging beneath the intense green orbs_. 'She looks terrible,'_ he thought as he gave pale cheek a stroke. Her tear ducts were full, but she managed to hold it together.

"What took you guys so long? I thought you and Paul were right behind me," said William as he looked between his mother and the man. He noticed Paul's groomed shock of light hair was already beginning to fly into the disarray it was naturally prone to. The pudgy man made a face.

"We were having car troubles. Still haven't gotten the old thing looked at," Paul said, swiping a nervous hand across his sweaty forehead. "Looks like we're going to get some rain, too," he changed the topic, brows raised in exasperation over his dark eyes. It was William's turn to make a face.

"Hopefully not too hard," William said, this time more to himself. "Have you heard anything back from Dad?" There was a note of hopefulness that flitted through the young man's voice, even as he tried to suppress it.

"I'm afraid not, hun," Michelle piped up, giving her son an empathetic look. William kept up a stony face, but inside he could feel something wither.

William's father had left when he was eleven. He had been caught with another woman, and things fell apart between him and Michelle. William had been close with his father, he saw the man as nothing short of god-like. The first year had been the most difficult; he had taken to blaming his mother for his father's leaving and was transfixed with the idea that he was going to go live with him and his new girlfriend.

It broke the boy's heart when Adrian Harris hardly even tried, and William could count the number of times he'd seen his father since the divorce on his two hands. He had talked to him a lot more over the phone, but it was always the same, filled with empty promises and false interest. Meanwhile, Adrian was living some fairytale life with his new young lover. The last William heard, they were planning on getting married and she was pregnant.

Not to be mistaken, William was mad at his father. Most days, he could even say he hated him. And yet, he could never get himself to not hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd someday see the errors of his ways and walk back into William's life.

He often found himself disappointed.

It hurt – William had thought his father cared, but as he got older, less naïve, he could see past the illusion. It wasn't uncommon for him to find himself wondering if Adrian ever did truly care.

His absence at the wake of his second son, William's brother, hit him brutally with an unspoken answer. Dakota was only seven at the time of Adrian's leaving, and had always been closer to their mother. The news of Anabel's conception had come a few weeks after his father's departure – how could someone miss what they never knew?

"Will," Michelle tugged at his arm, drawing him away from his thoughts. "You know how he's always so busy. I'm sure he's just running late, he'll be here for the funeral," she said in attempt to sooth her son. He could only hum a response. A moment of heavy silence hung between them. "Paul and I are going to go see him now," his mother gave his shoulder a soft squeeze, though he was sure the gesture was just as much for her own comfort as it was for his.

William watched the pair walk away, towards the casket cradling his brother's body. He himself had yet to go up to the casket, having been spending his time greeting and thanking the people who came. He continued to look upon the scene as his mother stood by the wooden box, Paul standing back to give the woman some privacy. Michelle had met Paul nearly two years ago, and William knew that he was a good man. He had seen him as a friend more than anything, the eldest Harris child too old and damaged for someone to take a role in his life as a father figure. If he had to guess, he would say Dakota had felt the same.

"Hey there, stranger," a soft voice spoke, drawing his attention. A young blond woman approached the brunette, a little grin on her comely features.

"Laura!" William exclaimed, a smile growing on his thin lips as he saw his old friend. "I'm glad you're here, Laura." The two shared a quick hug. Unlike the one with his mother, it was a happy embrace. Pulling back, William held Laura by the shoulders, looking at her. "You've hardly changed since I left. Since _you _left…" His brows pulled together. "When did you get back?"

"A couple weeks ago. It _is _spring break," she teased. "Speaking of wild parties and underage drinking, I heard you're officially an officer of the law," her voice lilted in curiosity, a look of near-disbelief upon her face.

"Yeah. Just made my first arrest last month," a proud note carried in William's voice. "Some young punk tried stealing a car," he recalled, running a hand through his bangs. The old habit made the girl smile, a twinkle in her blue eyes that were a few shades darker than William's own.

"'Young punk'? You say that like you aren't one yourself! It's hard to believe that you of all people became a cop, Will; you used to get in so much trouble. You always had to rebel, had to be so… obstinate. You and I both know you have authority issues," she finished, laughing with an impish grin on her pink lips.

"Things are different now," he responded. "Besides, I wasn't _that _bad… Was I?"

"I honestly have no clue how you never got arrested, Will! It must be your boyish charm," she rolled her eyes, but was still smiling. "Officer William Harris… It does have a nice ring to it, I suppose." It was an offered truce, and William took it. Experience told him to quit while he was ahead when it came to the young woman.

"So, are you seeing anyone?" The question had caught William off-guard. His cheeks warmed, but he managed not to look too phased.

"Ye-… Uh. No, not really," William answered. Laura quirked a thin brow. "It's a long story," he gave a sheepish grin. "How about you?"

"Actually, I met a guy a few months ago. We have a bit of a thing going on, it's nothing official yet. But I think I really do like him, Will…" She took on a slightly dreamy expression, to which William gave a short snort. Laura punched him in the shoulder. "Don't laugh, you ass! I'm being serious!" They shared a laugh, but a loud sob brought the two back to their surroundings. A woman – after a moment, William identified it as his Aunt Zena – was up at the casket and having a small meltdown, her husband easing her away. A depressing air penetrated their bubble of happiness.

"I'm so sorry, Will," Laura placed a hand on his arm, her features pulled into a sorrowful look; she didn't need to say what for.

"I am, too," was his only response. A look of questioning was sent his way, but she refrained from asking. A stiff silence swallowed them, Laura giving a soft squeeze before her hand dropped away, resting back along her slim side.

"You going to be in town long?" Laura asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"I'm going to be leaving tomorrow morning, so I'm afraid not." He watched as Laura frowned.

"That's stupid. I was hoping we'd get a little more time to catch up…"

"I know. I'd stay longer if I could, but I've already been gone for a week. I really can't afford to miss any more work than I have," he offered lamely. His rent wasn't cheap.

"Well, you'll just have to make sure to come back down soon. Or maybe I'll have to make a trip up there – where was it, Wellburg?" She gave him a playful smile.

"Yeah, maybe. I know this awesome little diner, something that'd be right up your alley," William said, giving her a nudge with his elbow. She glanced around the room, prompting him to do the same. People were beginning to take their seats among the wooden pews.

"You should go up and see him, looks like we're going to start here soon," Laura told him. "I know you haven't yet, you've been over here playing doorman since you arrived. Such a gentleman," came another teasing statement.

"Yeah, I'm going to go do that. Are you going to go sit down?" William asked, to which she nodded. "Okay. I'll talk to you later, Laura." He watched her walk away. William had met Laura in elementary school, when he was in the 3rd grade. She was two years older than him, taking the young boy under her snarky wing. She was tough, that girl; it came in handy when they hit middle school. Children could be so mean.

With a quiet sigh, William turned to face the casket. It wasn't that he didn't want to visit his brother one last time, but he was afraid to. Dakota had committed suicide. Since a break-in that occurred in their youth, there was always a gun kept in the house in case of an emergency. It was the very weapon meant to protect them that took his brother's life. William hadn't seen the body yet, wasn't sure of what sight awaited him. Each step felt heavy. His heart thudded hard in his chest as he drew near, looking down at his feet.

He made his way up the short stairway, finding the bottom of the table that supported the casket. William closed his eyes to take a steadying breath, lest he wanted to experience a breakdown in front of everyone. Prepared for the worst, William opened his icy eyes.

Dakota laid upon white satiny fabric that contrasted violently with his dark clothing. His skin was pale, a rosy tint to his lifeless cheeks from makeup. His mouth was a matching shade, too pale for life and yet too warm for death. His eyes, the same lovely green as their mother's, were closed. Strawberry blond hair was groomed, not a strand out of place, his fringe of bangs lying over his forehead.

William saw no bullet hole, guessing it was hidden beneath Dakota's bangs. His breath caught, hands balling at his sides. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought Dakota was merely sleeping. The body lay in an unnatural stillness that wasn't even achieved in sleep though; the absence of long and even breaths, the quick flutter of eyelids. It was all that kept the young man from expecting the 17 year-old from opening drowsy eyes and sitting up.

"Dakota…" William said the name softly. He stood alone at the casket, his words solely for the ears of the dead. "Why did you do this…? Why didn't you say something? I'm so sorry, brother…" William moved and took a deep, shaky breath. He looked down to the hands crossed over Dakota's stomach in a classic burial pose. They were long and thin and delicate, artistic hands. William used to pick on him about them, saying that they were the hands of a woman. He wanted nothing more than to take them in his own and feel them warm with life. It was foolish, William thought, for him to wish for that – even when Dakota was alive, his hands were always cold.

William's eyes drew back up to the boy's face. Hair color and eye color aside, the two looked a lot alike. Had Dakota not been three years his junior, they could have easily been twins. Dakota's soft complexion was only marred by a small lonely scar upon his chin. William had been the one to give it to him; he recalled the memory with ease…

_William and Dakota were playing in the back yard under the light of the late afternoon, ages seven and four. Dakota trailed after his older brother like a lost dog, grating on William's nerves._

_ "Stop following me! Go away, you stupid baby!" The brunette yelled, but the smaller of the two just looked at him with owlish green eyes. William picked up a stick on the ground, a thick one that had fallen from the enormous elm tree that grew in the yard._

THWACK!

_"OW!" A pained yelp was followed by the sound of a child crying. A door slammed as Michelle, spritely in her youth, dashed out at the sound of her youngest in pain. She saw Dakota on the ground holding his mouth and chin. William stood above him, stick in hand. The woman quickly pieced together what had happened. The older boy had always been resentful of his baby brother, and yet the younger still idolized William._

_ A strong scolding followed, and Michelle sent William to bed without dinner. Said boy sat on his bed, angry sniffles muffled into his arms and knees. He muttered spiteful things about Dakota as he vented, going quiet as the sun's last lights faded in the west facing window. Silence enveloped the room, and William had nearly fallen asleep when a voice spoke from the other side of the door._

_ "Will!" A loud rasp sounded, a four year-old's attempt to whisper. Recognizing it as the bane of his existence, William had half the mind to try out some new cusses that he had heard from the other kids at school. After a moment of internal debate, William decided to remain quiet. If his parents overheard him, he'd only get in more trouble._

_ Dakota called out to his brother a few more times before finally giving up when he got no response. William thought the silence meant he had left, but then he heard the sound of something sliding on the wooden floor. The brunette swung his legs over the edge of his bed, looking in the direction of the noise. It was coming from his bedroom door. _

_ William slipped off of the bed quietly, and in the dying light of the room he could see two round objects being pushed underneath his door. Once they were through, he could hear the patter of small feet running down the hall. He crouched, picking up one of the dark disks. It felt grainy under his fingers, a sweet scent wafting up to his small nose. He brought it close to his face, finally discovering what it was. Dakota had brought him cookies. William looked at the door as he took a bite of the morsel, thoughtful. Maybe… Dakota wasn't so bad._

William felt a prickle behind his eyes as he gazed down upon his brother. As childish as it was, that night had been a turning point in his and Dakota's relationship. The two had become nearly inseparable, even as they got older. William made a pained face as a thought passed through his mind. _'We _were _close, until…'_

In his nostalgia, William hadn't noticed his hand moving closer to Dakota's, his fingers wrapping against ice-cold flesh. What startled him though was when the flesh gripped back. William took in a sharp breath as he looked down, seeing a slender hand holding his. Its grasp tightened painfully, earning a hiss from William. Confusion plagued him as he looked back to his brother's dead face.

William would have screamed if it hadn't gotten caught in his throat. Blood poured profusely out from underneath of Dakota's bangs, dripping down in thick rivets and staining the white sheets beneath him.

"Da-Dakota..?!" William's voice came in a choked whisper. As if hearing his own name, Dakota's eyelids flew open, but the eyes beneath them were most definitely not his little brother's. Pitch black orbs gazed into William, an abyss that felt as if it were pulling on his very soul. An overwhelming sensation of despair was filling him, feeling completely helpless under the pinning stare. A hand landed hard on his shoulder, William flinching as his head snapped towards the violation of his personal space.

"We're going to start now, Will," a voice said in his ear, so close and yet sounding so distant. It was Paul. William looked back down, expecting to hear the man yell out when he saw what was transpiring.

"He looks so peaceful like this, doesn't he?" William gaped, unable to respond. The blood was gone and Dakota's eyes were closed once again, as though he never moved. He could still feel the cold hand clasped in his, William immediately turning to look there. His knuckles were white with the force of his grip, his brother's hand limp and unmoving in his own. William let go as though he had been burned.

"You okay there, bud? You look a little pale," Paul asked, noting the lack of color in his face. William nodded slowly, reluctant to look away from his brother. Had he just imagined the whole thing? He could still feel a ghosting sensation of fingers clamping onto him like a shackle.

"Let's go sit down then," Paul tugged carefully at the shoulder he touched, William allowing himself to be lead in a daze. He sat down next to his mother as the service began, but William couldn't pay any attention to the drone of the preacher's voice. His eyes remained glued to Dakota's body, looking for any signs that what he saw had actually happened. There were none.

_'I must be more stressed than I thought…' _William finally decided, letting out a quiet breath that he'd unconsciously been holding. He pushed a hand through his hair, a deep frown etched in his face. William hadn't been sleeping well the last few nights, waking several times with the vestiges of some nightmare on the tip of his mind, but not quite able to recall it. It was exhausting, but he had too much on his plate to let a few bad dreams stop him. Of course, he hadn't foreseen side effects like having vivid hallucinations of his brother's corpse latching onto him and giving him a glare that could rival Sauron's. _'Maybe I'll try some of Mom's sleeping pills when we get home.'_

The wake went quickly, filled with the sounds of loss and mourning. A few people went up to speak and share memories about Dakota; William had planned to, himself, but the events prior had shaken him. He wasn't sure if he could get up there and talk with the images of big black soulless orbs still dancing around his brain. The brunette had managed to keep himself from crying, rubbing circles on his mother's back as she rested against his shoulder and sobbed freely. But when it came time to shut the casket, William couldn't keep his vision from swimming. As the lid was closed, Michelle cried out. William turned and held her frail body in his arms. His heart clenched and he closed his eyes, a single tear escaping down his cheek.

From there, the congregation moved outside to the cemetery where Dakota was to be buried. Roses were given to his immediate family. William's was white. He placed his rose among the others atop the polished wood of the casket before it was lowered down, caressing the smooth surface with a bittersweet smile.

"Goodbye, brother." A soft drizzle of rain began to fall from the grey expanse of the sky. People lingered for a while, but soon left to escape the cold dreariness of the graveyard. Adrian Harris never did show up.

* * *

**A lot of background in this chapter and the next! Sorry, but I promise things will start to pick up pace soon! And in case you're wondering, yes that is Laura from SH2. I did say in the description that characters from the games will show up ;) Who else will make an appearance, I wonder? You'll have to keep reading to find out! Reviews would be appreciated, thanks for reading~**

**- R. M.**


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